


Reconditioning

by androidkisser



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Forced Orgasm, Mindbreak, Obsession, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-12-25 13:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12037206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androidkisser/pseuds/androidkisser
Summary: A2 loses at the hands of 2B and 9S, and is brought back to the Bunker to meet with a face from her past.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spent a whole night working on this, I'm sure some of you will enjoy, and some of the people who come here for the nice stuff definitely won't.  
> Warnings should be pretty self evident, but do not read if you have issues with non-con stuff.
> 
> Leave a comment either way! Thank you! (⌒▽⌒)♡

Even after her motor cortex was hacked into near-uselessness, A2 feebly kicked, screamed and weakly writhed as they forced her into the flight unit.

“Jeez, it would've been easier if we just had to kill her,” whined 9S, as he brought up a screen to set the coordinates. The flight unit's mechanisms closed in around A2, locking her in place. Her cursing was still somehow louder than him, he realised, as 2B asked him to repeat himself. “Why'd they want her alive, anyway?”

“Can't you do anything about that?” 2B asked, ignoring his question and clicking her tongue dismissively as she turned to her Pod. “The hangar won't be available for another hour or so, and we'll have to guard her until she leaves.”

“Man, do you know how hard it was to even get _this_ far into her systems? There's way more defensive junk in there than you'd think,” he pouted. “You wanna try? Ask your Pod to give you hacking permissions, you see how well _you_ can –”

“I believe you, 9S,” sighed 2B.

“Hey, can't you quiet down?” 9S asked the deserter. Her face was twisted into the very image of unbridled fury, as she began to grind her teeth together. “It's not gonna change anything...”

“Go to hell,” A2 spat. “Take her with you.”

9S shrugged. “Fine, do what you want, but we're only following orders. You can take it up with the Commander when you get up there.”

A2's face looked shocked for a moment, before the angry snarl returned with renewed ferocity. _That bitch is still in charge?_

“Actually, never mind that,” said 2B, turning away from her Pod. “6O says they've prioritised her, and there's clearance to land. There'll be D-types there to handle her, if it sets off now.”

“Hope they know what they're dealing with,” 9S said with a frown. “They _just_ cleaned the hangar...”

A2 simply gave them a disgusted glare, filled with all the fury she could muster in her weakened state. The YoRHa unit lifted itself into the air with a roar, spitting blue flames, at 9S's command, shifting into its flight configuration and carrying the still seething A2 to whatever fate awaited her.

 

**

 

The fact that she managed to inflict one casualty in the hangar was cause for alarm, especially considering the fact that she was unarmed, and still recovering from the hacking damage from earlier. In the end, though, she was still only one android, and she soon found herself quickly overpowered and frogmarched to a holding cell, her arms shackled together above her head, and her legs separated, ankles bolted to fixings on the floor. Struggle as she might, they held fast.

She cursed herself once more for allowing this to happen. If she hadn't let them get the jump on her, if she'd just been paying the _slightest_ bit more attention; if she hadn't blocked 2B's sword from the left, if she... no, no use worrying now, she grudgingly accepted. Her only regret was being unable to turn her sword on herself before she was robbed of her motor functions. Death was better than this.

She was hooked up to the Bunker's systems, in some way, though she didn't know how; days passed in solitude, yet every time she attempted to force herself into rest mode, she found herself mentally prodded awake.

It was infuriating. If she struggled too hard against her bonds, or fell back against them, a jolt of pain shot through her sensors. It was nothing she couldn't handle, but without the respite of rest mode, it was taking its toll on her patience. Sometimes the pain came from nowhere, and lasted a far longer amount of time. It almost made her laugh, at times – did they really think she hadn't been through worse? – but other times, she grew uneasy. They hadn't interrogated her, or even showed their faces once. Whatever. They probably already knew everything they needed to, anyway, she figured.

There were no windows in her cell, nor were there any discernible sounds coming from outside. For all she knew, she was just going to be left here to rot, as punishment for her 'crimes'.

A few days later – or it could have been a week or more, she really couldn't be sure – the door slid open, revealing the one person she had hoped to never see again in her life.

“Attacker Number Two,” the voice said, surprisingly softly.

“Let me out of this, and I'll make sure you remember why you called us that,” A2 snarled in reply.

The YoRHa commander remained silent, looking decidedly unshaken by the empty threat, stepping into the cell as the door closed behind her.

“Could've just sent me an invitation,” A2 said, forcing a mocking laugh, and pulling at the manacles above her head, rewarding her with another round of pain that she made a point of deliberately ignoring. “Didn't have to send the lovebirds after me again.”

“I'll get to the point quickly; I'm going to make you an offer,” the other woman stated, plainly.

It was A2's turn to keep her mouth shut, replying only by narrowing her eyes.

“Come back,” the Commander said. There was a strange look in her eyes, one that A2 couldn't quite put her finger on.

A2 laughed again, genuinely this time. “Are you fucking joking me? You're fucking with me, right?”

“If you do, then –”

“Then what? Wait, lemme guess – wipe my memory like that poor kid you keep on your little leash? Just fucking open the god damn hangar doors, I'd rather take my chances in space.”

The Commander paused for a moment, before her mouth twisted into a smirk. “Such a foul mouth you have on you,” she said. “I don't remember you being this way, before.”

“Think I'd rather you just leave my god damn pain sensors maxed out than have you talk me to death,” replied A2 with a snarl. “The answer's no, so you can fuck off.”

“I assumed as much,” the taller woman mused. “As for the pain, we've been monitoring you. It seems it isn't having quite the effect we were hoping.”

“Dunno,” replied A2, pulling hard on her bonds again, wincing slightly, “s'actually quite stimulating once you get used to it.”

The Commander took a step forward, lifting A2's hands upwards with surprising force, stemming the flow of pain signals to her body. “That's why we'll be trying something a little different, now.”

“Don't touch me,” A2 hissed, recoiling as much as the chains would allow.

“There's no need to be so hostile,” the Commander replied, loosening her grip on the other girl's wrists. “We're on the same side, after all.”

“Wow,” said A2, “starting to think all this time in space really has fucked with your head.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You made my life a living hell for the past five years just because I didn't die like you wanted,” she spat. “What the fuck makes you think we're anywhere near the same?”

“I... didn't want you to die,” the Commander said. “I was –”

A2 snorted derisively. “Bullshit. We were disposable from the start. Even the god damn machines knew that.”

“Data collection was our priority,” came the whispered reply. “That doesn't mean I wanted you to die.”

“Whatever,” muttered A2. “And whatever you're gonna do, get it over with. Got a lot of things planned later on.”

The Commander took another step towards A2, her body almost touching hers. “I plan to persuade you to stay,” she breathed. “You were missed.”

“Fuck off, _Commander_ ,” said A2, turning her head away with an angry scowl.

“Those 'pain' sensors aren't solely tied to pain, you know,” the other woman said, extending her hand and brushing a length of hair from A2's face. “Oh, and... it'd please me if you would call me White.”

“Like I give a damn what your name is,” A2 seethed. “It's more than we ever damn well got.”

White said nothing for a time, her fingertips playing with A2's long, matted hair, before she began caressing the girl's cheek. “As I said, those sensors we toyed with are for much more than just pain,” she whispered softly, her lips teasing across the shell of the other girl's ear.

“Get the hell away from me,” A2 said with a shiver. As much as she hated to admit it, every sensation was amplified beyond belief. The gentle tracing of fingers on her skin was like the softest of silks playing across her cheek; the breath at her ear, and the gentle brushing of skin on skin sent conflicting feelings straight to her mind. She grit her teeth, grinding them together in an attempt to push the urge to tilt her head to the side out of her head.

“I missed you,” White said, her tongue darting out to lick the outer edge of her ear; nipping at the earlobe with her teeth behind her lips.

“You're insane,” murmured A2, twisting her head away as much as she possibly could, but to no avail – White's lips followed her wherever she turned or angled.

“You're here now,” came the detached reply, as the wandering lips travelled south to A2's jawline, nibbling gently at the sensitive flesh there. A satisfied sigh left White's mouth, as A2 shuddered beneath her touch.

“Fucking stop, already,” A2 said, twisting her body to its limits in an effort to get herself away from the increasingly pleasurable sensations.

“Your pulse rate is rising,” breathed White, her lips pressed against A2's jugular.

“You don't get to talk big about getting someone off when you fuck with their head,” A2 scoffed, with all the venom she could muster, given the circumstances. “Screw you.”

“If the results are the same in the end, it doesn't matter how you achieve them,” murmured White, her lips clamping tightly around the meat at the side of A2's windpipe and sucking tightly, drawing an unwilling gasp from the bound girl.

“This is so fucked up,” A2 said, her voice sounding more than a little strained. “Couldn't just make yourself a little slave for whatever it is you're into?”

“They wouldn't be you,” White said, breathing hard, the object of her desires finally in her grasp. “There wouldn't be a point.”

Her free hand snaked its way up A2's back, fingernails digging in on their torturous path ever upwards, eliciting a series of harsh, sharp sounds from her. The scene further up was a little different – White's lips had left her neck with a mess of pinkish-purple bruises, claiming her for herself, though now it seemed she had a different goal in mind. With the hand that was interwoven tightly with the girl's hair, she firmly twisted her head around to face her.

White couldn't force the girl to make eye contact, much as she ached to gaze into them before her soft, plush lips made contact with A2's rough, chapped ones, but she _could_ make her breath catch, make her moan into her mouth as her lips fought with hers, make her pulse rise just that little bit more.

“Go... fuck yourself...” whispered A2, panting as White pulled away, their lips still glistening with saliva in the artificial light.

“You do react so wonderfully,” White said, taking no notice of the curses aimed at her. “I'm so glad you're mine, you know...”

“I'm not yours,” A2 almost shouted, incredulous, though her tone lacked impact. “What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?”

“Oh, you will be,” whispered White, directly into her ear. It was all A2 could do to suppress a whimper. Though she despised the woman in front of her with every fibre of her being, it had been so long, and her touch was so... _no. No. No. No. Wrong. Fuck._

“Doesn't matter what the hell you do to me, you can't change how things a–... _aah,_ fuck...”

“Good,” teased White, the palm of the hand that had previously been scratching at her back now pressing into the exposed black under-skin of her crotch. “Don't hold it in.”

Though the prototypes in A2's generation never received such luxuries as sexual organs, the areas where those parts would be were hard-wired to be decidedly sensitive, under the right circumstances – so inherently _human_. The sudden tender contact there had been enough for the tendrils of pleasure lapping at her mind to break through, just the tiniest bit, and A2 felt the first few cracks in her resolve begin to form.

She desperately tried to fill those cracks with more bitterness, more venom and more raw hatred for the woman that had taken everything away from her, but her voice was already hoarse, thanks to the adjustments made to her sensitivity.

“You won't get anywhere with this,” croaked A2, before adding, “bitch...”

“Is that a challenge?” moaned White into the crook of A2's neck, her fingertips now lightly grazing over her groin, as if daring her to thrust forward with her hips.

“It's a 'fuck you', you god damn freak,” she said, swallowing audibly. Her hands clenched into fists, before unclenching, over and over again, hoping to distract her mind with something, _anything_.

“I can tell you want this,” White whispered, withdrawing her hand, abandoning her post at her side and taking a step back to gaze at the sight of her quivering body. “You miss that already, don't you?”

Though every circuit in her mind ached to knit together into a tapestry of strength, hatred and determination, she found herself weaving a love letter to the sensations that somehow yet lingered on in her nether regions. _Wrong._ _ **Wrong**_ _._

“Don't touch me,” she repeated, as if it would somehow keep away those hands, those horrible, teasing, torturous, wonderful –

White had already closed the gap between them again, her fingers returning to tracing delicate little circles on the highest point of her mound. How she knew just how to tease her like that despite the absence of a visual guide was beyond her, but so were a lot of things, right now, like coherent thought.

Her lips found their way back to hers, but only for a short moment – she treated A2 to the most delicate, loving of kisses, before pulling her head back to look at the girl's flushed, sweating face.

White smiled. “You have such a pretty face,” she said, cupping her cheek with her free hand, the other still circling relentlessly.

It took every ounce, every last drop of willpower A2 had left to resist the urge to tilt her head into her hand, to rest it against the impossibly soft palm and demonstrate her loyalty, her submissiveness, though despite it all, she couldn't help but let a desperate whimper escape her lips.

“I'm sure you've wondered why you've seen it before, on the one who helped bring you here, but perhaps you can guess the answer to that, now,” said White. Their eyes finally met, then, and A2 searched them, looking for something to hate, something that she could cling on to, but she found only the telltale look of pure desire, twisted though it may have been. “I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing it every day, Number Two...”

“I... I don't... want it like this...” A2 said, unsure if she wanted to moan, scream or cry. She tried in vain to turn her head away once more, but found her lips locked against White's once more in a desperately lustful battle.

“I do,” replied White after the fact, leaning in close to her ear once more.

“Don't,” implored A2, her mannerisms almost reverting back to a time before any of this mess had happened. Her eyebrows knitted together in a display of defeat. “Not... like this... you've got what you want already...”

“I can't help it,” she breathed in response, her palm stroking her cheek. This time, she didn't – she _couldn't_ – fight it. Her neck angled itself to trap White's hand between her face and raised shoulder, aching for more of the sweet touches that were driving her insane.

“You don't have to fight any more,” she said softly, rewarding the deserter with more affection, fingertips brushing against her damaged skin. “You can just be a good girl for me, and let it all out...”

There was a furious, bubbling rage still frothing inside A2, but it was entirely dampened by the desire to feel the loving touch, no matter the source. It didn't _matter_ that she was why everything had gone to shit, it didn't _matter_ that she had made her life borderline not worth living for years, it didn't _matter_ that she was the reason Number Four was –

“No,” A2 pleaded, suddenly, her head whipping to the opposite side of her body, “no, no, it's not what – no, White, don't, I –”

She didn't care that she gave her the satisfaction of using her name. It didn't matter any more. She'd get what she wanted whether she did or didn't use it. What mattered was getting away from those sensations, before she broke entirely.

The Commander wasn't listening, though. When she no longer had access to her face, her hand simply wandered elsewhere, cupping one of A2's small breasts in her hand, thumbing over the area where her nipple would have been.

A2 desperately tried to cling to those thoughts of Number Four, but the lips that found their way back to her neck, the teasing fingertips at her breast, and the palm that never ceased its rubbing against her crotch made her mind go entirely blank. In that moment, there was no Number Four, there was no YoRHa, there was nothing but her tormented, aching body that begged for release.

“Just let go,” White whispered. “I'll take good care of you, Number Two...”

Her words pushed her over the edge. It didn't matter, any more. She hated herself, but she didn't care. She loathed White, but she didn't care. Her hips bucked and writhed against White's palm, who responded by pressing it even further into the soft mound there so that she could ride it just that little bit more effectively.

A2's vision whited out as she screamed, an unholy mix of pleasure, frustration, and anger leaving her mouth. The plateau seemed to last an eternity, and White seemed to draw it out yet further, changing the pace of those treacherous fingers and refusing to stop crushing her hand against her most sensitive area, whispering such horrible but _wonderful_ things in her ear until the very end.

As her senses returned to her, she was aware of a soft, gentle sensation enveloping and blanketing her upper body; White had seemingly drawn her into an embrace as she came down from her emotional and physical high, and was now running her fingers through her hair, untangling it as she went.

“Please, think about it,” she implored. “You'll be safe here.”

A2 simply remained quiet. There were no words – there was nothing she could say, and nothing she could do; she didn't even have the capacity to think of what would happen if she refused.

“I have some pressing matters to attend, but I'll be back later tonight,” White said, calmly, though her voice was soft. “I would much rather if you could come back with me to my quarters, so... as I said, please, consider it.”

She turned to leave, leaving A2 flushed crimson and breathless, head hanging limply between her shoulders.

She began to think.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: man this was way hotter to write than I thought it'd be

“Have you come to a decision, then, Number Two?”

The words that A2 knew were about to leave her lips sickened her and boiled her blood, but she knew she had little choice. Here, she'd rot forever – there'd be no hope of escape, no hope of ever getting away from YoRHa, from _her_. At least if she wasn't shackled in place, there was always a chance.

“I'll... … you...” she muttered, almost under her breath.

“Hmm? I didn't quite catch that,” White said, an air of smugness permeating her tone. It was enough to make A2 nauseous all over again. “You'll have to speak up, Number Two.”

“I _said_ , I'll come with you,” A2 repeated, louder this time. The sentence stung her throat, and burned her tongue. The way White's lips curled into a smile of victory didn't help, either.

“I see,” hummed White, taking a step closer to her. Every _clack_ of her heels on the floor made A2 fight harder with the urge to grind her teeth again, but she couldn't afford to be so obvious. Not yet. Not now. “Oh, we've taken precautions. It's not that I doubt that you have only the most honourable of intentions, but I can't have a repeat of the hangar bay, you understand.”

Sure enough, both White, and her two-unit entourage showed as friendly YoRHa IDs to her in her visual feed – N FCS errors flashed across her screen even as she _thought_ about tearing their throats out. Vengeance really would have to wait, it seemed.

She was still sickened with herself – with both her earlier obedience, and the disgusting little dance that she had been forced to perform. It was something so simple, something so pathetic, that had beaten her, in the end.

 _For now,_ she thought to herself. _For now._

A2 attempted to rationalise it as something beyond her control – she was designed a certain way, and there was little she could do against sensations that were hard-wired into her systems to feel so _good_. A small part of her, though, still felt as if she should have been able to fight it. If she could ignore the pain, why couldn't she ignore the pleasure? White had even told her they were the same systems, so why did it feel so –

“Come,” said White, shortly. The shackles above A2's head unlocked, her arms falling to her sides limply. She shivered and crossed her arms, then began to massage them gently in an attempt to acknowledge their presence again in her subsystems, before she felt White's arms wrap around her from behind. She fought the urge to recoil.

“When we get to my room,” she whispered, stroking A2's forearms, the sensations only barely registering, “I will see to it that you're taken care of.”

“Yeah,” muttered A2, numb. Every step closer they took towards White's room made her stomach twist and knot. It was so wrong, and it made her so _angry_. Angry that this was her only choice.

A part of her knew, however, that she'd need whatever maintenance White had planned for her. Weeks of standing in the same position, her systems warped and bent to YoRHa's whims, had left her weak, and even had she been able to, she doubted she could wring the life out of an earthworm.

The effort of standing on her own was taking its toll on her body, and her senses – her visual feed flickered in and out, and she was barely able to cling to the conversations and hushed whispers in the corridors, no doubt questioning her presence here. Her legs almost gave way underneath her, and she reluctantly allowed herself to let herself rest against White's body, as she traipsed alongside her.

As the door to the Commander's office slid open, A2 felt herself being lifted effortlessly from her feet, before she was placed delicately onto something incredibly soft, yet supportive – she couldn't _see_ what it was, her visual feed now entirely a mess of static and errors, but she surmised it was White's bed.

A2 felt it a little strange that she had been so easy to pick up in the first place – while it was true that she had shed more than her fair share of unnecessary parts over the years, White was deceptively strong. In her current condition, that scared even her.

“You expect me to –” A2 coughed, “– trust you with my maintenance?”

“If I had wanted to make you a lifeless doll, I could have,” White replied, with all the seriousness of someone picking between designs for new combat uniforms. She moved back over to the bed, kneeling at A2's side with a diagnostics screen. A2 winced as she felt the tool analyse her body. It was oddly invasive for something designed to help.

“Your motor cortex is full of holes,” White muttered, more to herself than A2, “your visual sensors are degraded, and you'll likely need extensive repair work on your arms.”

“Leave them,” A2 hissed. “Don't want new shit.”

“If you intended to be so hostile, perhaps you should have stayed where you were,” White commented, her fingers spidering their way across the screen, repairing errors and discrepancies in the other girl's subsystems.

A2 screwed her eyes shut. Even just allowing her to fix her up felt almost as bad as her fingers pressing into her crotch. That feeling wouldn't leave her, no matter how hard she tried to push it out of her memory circuits.

It didn't change anything, either. She still wanted her dead.

“There,” stated White, matter-of-factly. “I've repaired your visual and aural sensors, though the rest will have to wait.”

“I told you I don't _want_ –”

“What you want and what you'll get here are two very different things,” White said, cutting across her. “I told you I would take care of you, and your whining won't make a difference to that.”

A2 pressed her lips together, fuming. Her body was _hers_. She'd taken care of it all this time, alone. She didn't intend on having any part of it replaced with some factory-standard Battler model's, damaged or not.

“You really do have to stop making faces like that,” White whispered, leaning over A2's body. Her long, soft hair teased A2's neck and chest as she did so, making her screw her face up even more; she attempted to twist her body away, to the side, but she found herself still far too weak.

White simply smiled, responding by leaning in closer, her hair spilling all over the girl's body. “Did you truly think you could slip into the lion's den and have your own way?”

That teasing voice was so fucking _grating_ , A2 thought. Grating, _infuriating_.

“Aren't you happy to be here, instead of that horrible cell?” White asked, lips pressing against A2's ear. “Isn't it comfortable here?”

As the word _comfortable_ left her lips, she swung her leg over, straddling the other android's hips without parting with the sensitive skin of A2's ear. She was decidedly heavy.

“Get off me, and fuck you,” A2 said, unable to keep up a façade of indifference any longer. “Yeah, it's peachy, but you know what'd make it even better? If you'd just fuck off and leave me the hell alone.”

White smirked. “I'm afraid I can't do that, Number Two,” she breathed. “You were making such pretty faces before, and I'm simply aching to see them again...”

 _This shit again,_ thought A2, forcing her features into the most loathing scowl she could muster. Not this time. She wouldn't get what she wanted this time. It had taken her off guard before, but now she knew exactly what to expect. She'd endure it, and then she supposed she'd have to get new parts fitted whether she liked it or not, and then she'd –

Her train of thought was interrupted by White's tongue lapping softly at the side of her neck, nibbling her earlobe at the peak of its journey, before repeating the process again.

She wouldn't even speak. She wouldn't give her the satisfaction of showing that she was fighting back. This, she could handle.

“Won't you smile for me, Number Two? That face doesn't suit you at all...”

_Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you..._

She repeated it over and over, more to remind herself that whatever her body told her she was feeling, it was _wrong_.

White's hands ghosted their way across A2's hips, and up to her stomach, and against her will, her breath hitched. She was almost positive she heard a satisfied exhale leave that bitch's mouth.

“Oh my... are you still having some sensitivity issues, Number Two?” White teased, her fingers feathering along A2's sides, in a manner not dissimilar to the way she had worked her diagnostics screen.

If the pleasure was humiliating, this was several orders of magnitude worse. Whatever she was doing to her could barely even be counted as touching her, yet A2 found herself fighting her own breathing to keep it steady. Something alien, something foreign bubbled up inside her, and she couldn't quite place it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” A2 spat, breaking her vow of silence.

“Making you smile for me,” replied White with a smile, her lips exploring A2's jawline once more, as if she couldn't quite get enough of it. “Shocking as it may be, I _am_ acquainted with how your body works...”

A2 couldn't believe what she was hearing – or what she was feeling, for that matter. She recognised it now. It was the urge to laugh, though she wasn't sure why that, of all things. There certainly wasn't anything hilarious about the situation she was in right now, one that she now realised she had zero chance of escaping from.

The thought that the deranged bitch in front of her knew exactly how to play her like one of those damn Old World instruments was a terrifying one – as was the sensation of an unwinnable battle, taking place on her exposed stomach.

She hated it. She _despised_ being at the mercy of the harbinger of her misery. And yet here she was, ready to giggle like a malfunctioning machine for her, just from the sensations of the fingertips skating across her taut, synthetic muscles.

“Doesn't matter what the hell you know, think you know or what you do,” A2 growled through gritted teeth, “you'll never be what Number Four was to me, got that?”

White's response was to dig her fingers into the supple flesh of the deserter's sides, eliciting a series of snickers and snorts from her as she did her best to squirm away from the touches. A2 realised she'd been giggling for some time after the sensations had stopped, then bit her tongue in a desperate mix of fear and panic.

“Isn't that better? To let go of all that hate, and smile for me?”

A2 was truly terrified, now, though she did her best not to let it show. There was something amiss in the eyes of the YoRHa commander – if she didn't know better, she would have suspected a logic virus. The woman was positively deranged. Deluded. It wouldn't matter what she said, she knew it wouldn't make a difference. No amount of cursing or flailing would sway her.

“You can't seriously want it like this,” A2 said, resorting to a more levelled tone of voice. There really was no use in shouting, unless she sought to waste her precious energy. “You just can't.”

“I told you already,” White whispered, fingernails tracing the same weak spots, and making A2 quiver, “it doesn't matter _how_ you get what you want, so long as you get it.”

“I'll never see you like that,” A2 whispered back, in a vain attempt at reasoning with her, voice shaking from the lingering sensations at her waistline.

“You will,” breathed White. “Oh, you will...”

To A2, the absolute worst part of the way White said those things to her, was that she was starting to believe it herself. She took deep, steadying breaths through her mouth, doing her best to keep her eyes shut through the gentle teasing; she heard a sultry laugh in her ear, before she felt White's body leave hers.

All she could hear was a muffled rummaging from the opposite side of the room, accompanied by a soft humming from the other woman. She attempted to lift her head up to catch a glimpse of what was going on, but found herself unable to gain either the traction or leverage. Her head fell backwards onto the pillow, and her eyebrows knitted together with worry.

She heard a pair of zips, and then the sound of silks and leather grazing past each other – the fact that she could no longer hear the loud, sonorous footsteps told her that White had undressed. The bed adjusted once more to meet the extra weight, as White slipped into the covers, drawing them loosely around them both.

White's legs wrapped around A2's own – the softness of her skin both intoxicating and infuriating her. Clearly, the woman had never known any real combat. She only existed to give orders, to send others to do her dirty work. The skin on her thighs was pristine, and despite the wear on A2's legs, she could feel the velvet-softness brushing against her.

She felt herself twisted onto her side haphazardly, then pulled against White's body in an effortless display of strength. White's ample breasts pressed into A2's back, and she despised how wonderful it felt. A soft sigh escaped White's lips, before those lips themselves found their way to the exposed skin at the back of A2's neck.

A2 didn't know what to say, or what to retort with, or what to attempt to use as a bargaining chip. The only thing White seemed interested in was _her_ , and that was no good to her. She wasn't even sure of why – other than taking a mild interest in her personality data and her fighting prowess years ago, she would never have thought that feelings like this had taken a hold of her former Commander.

Not that it mattered why. She bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood when she felt those teasing fingers on her mound once more, still sensitive from her experience only an hour or so earlier.

“Tell me you love me,” White whispered into her hair.

A2 remained silent. There was no way, none, that she would say something so distasteful, no matter what transpired.

 _“Tell me,”_ she repeated, more forcefully, pressing her fingers deeper into the soft indent.

A2 whimpered at her touch, her defenses already long since broken down. It was so _humiliating_. She hated the woman with every fibre of her being, and yet here she was, curling into her as much as her body would allow, squirming against the delicate touches.

“Won't,” she mewled, “won't...”

White's fingers left her crotch briefly, but only for a moment – the intermission was only so that she could slick them with her saliva, before they returned to slide back and forth along the gentle depression.

The newfound ease at which her digits glided over the pitch black under-skin pushed A2 over the edge in seconds, making her whine and moan breathily, her back pressing against White's breasts, her legs unable to move under the pressure of the pair wrapped around hers.

“Tell me,” White echoed, her voice heavy with lust. Her 'free' hand had long since abandoned A2's chest, and was sat comfortably between her own legs, her middle finger slipping inside her as she parted her lips with her index and ring fingers.

A2 panted, as White continued to gently circle that traitorous little bud that hid beneath her skin at the top of her 'entrance'. “W-won't... say it...”

The fingers left her alone at last, and for a second, A2 thought she might have succeeded in proving her point – that thought soon dissolved into nothingness, as a much more rough, foreign sensation forced its way as deep into the little indentation as it could. It felt a lot thicker than the thin, devious little fingertips, though it was no less pleasurable.

Of course, White had no plans to simply leave it at that. Whatever the foreign object was, it had begun to vibrate inside her, and the intensity of the sensations overwhelmed A2 within seconds.

“Stop...! _Stop!_ Ah... no, fuck, _stop_ , stop, stop, please, no no, stop, it's – _ah –_ it's... too m-much...”

White's fingers buried deeper inside herself, listening to the frenzied, high-pitched moans the girl was making, breathing heavily into A2's ear, alternately nibbling the sensitive synthetic cartilage and licking her earlobe. The sensations combined drove A2 to bliss once more, her sensors overloaded, her visual feed whiting out again as if it had never been fixed to begin with. The feeling of being brought to ecstasy so soon after the last time was almost painful, but her mind told her otherwise, told her it _needed_ more, told her that it couldn't stop, shouldn't stop, _mustn't_ stop –

“Do you love me?”

“Can't... c-can't...” was all A2 could manage. White's hand moved to the top of the object, and the vibrations intensified in turn, making A2 practically scream with frustration and pleasure. It really was all too much for her, as she scrambled to hold on to coherent thoughts. There was a battle in her mind, as White's voice fought with her own internal monologue.

“You love _this_ , though, don't you, Number Two?”

_No, no, no, fucking stop, no, no...!_

_“_ Just give in... it's what you want, isn't it?”

_It's not... what I want..._

“It's okay to let it out... it's just a part of who you are...”

_It's NOT it's not it's not it's not it's not it's not it's not it's not it's not_

Another climax tore through her body, as she heard White rise to her own crescendo behind her, whimpering in her ear. It was such a pleasant sound, so different to the harsh tones of her spoken voice. Enough to make her fantasise about slipping her own fingers into that soft, wet –

 _No,_ she couldn't.

Could she?

Though fear, disgust, desire, ache, and raw arousal had held a contest within her, the latter had proven the victor. Tentatively, she attempted to move the thrice-weakened muscles in her arm behind her own body. She clumsily slapped against the other woman's side, then her hip, and then finally, she found the source of wetness, the reason for the desperate moans in her ear.

“Good girl,” whispered White, sending shivers down A2's spine. “You can touch,” she went on, gently.

As a pair of her blackened fingers slipped inside White's soaking wet entrance, an involuntary sentence accompanied her gasp of surprise.

“M-more,” A2 mumbled, “want more...”

“Of course,” replied White, pressing the little vibrating cylinder as tightly to her skin as it would go, and holding it in place. A2's fingers were untrained, and unsure, but the mere sensation of them inside of her almost cracked White's hardened steel composure, as she rode up and down on her palm.

“Tell me that you don't want me to stop,” White muttered, shakily, “tell me...”

“Don't... s-stop... so good...”

“Yes, just like that...” she said, encouragingly, as she maneuvered the silver object upwards, pressing it directly against the little button above A2's entrance that promised a delightful sound as payment for her attention.

The coherent thoughts that A2 had desperately tried to keep a tight hold on were now scattered to the winds; she was practically convulsing on the spot, no longer able to focus on anything except the pleasure coursing through her every circuit, sensor, and artificial nerve.

“Do you want me,” White whispered, “Number Two?”

For a moment, she hesitated. _Something_ inside her told her no, no, she didn't, _never,_ but that little something's voice was nothing compared to what she felt at that moment.

“I – w-want... y...”

“Finish it,” breathed White. She was hungry for it. She needed it.

“Want... you... love... you...” Even the hardened YoRHa commander's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't even had to ask. _“More...”_

As she was brought to her peak again, and again, and again, and again, she was vaguely aware of something snapping inside of her logic circuits; of something coming loose. She didn't care. Not any more. That vague feeling soon passed, leaving her only with a sense of ignorant bliss, as she begged for more, over and over again.

 

_**_

 

A2 had gone into a forced rest mode two or so hours ago, and she lay peacefully under the cream-coloured bedsheets. An exhausted smile remained on her face, despite it all. She had turned to face White, her body curled up into a loose ball, as the latter held her close.

“I'll keep you safe, this time,” White whispered, with genuine affection in her usually emotionless voice. “I promise.”

A2 merely stirred softly, making a little contented sound, before pulling herself closer to the Commander's soft, warm body. Leaving never crossed her mind again, though, not much did. The short thoughts that did, were ones of longing, waiting for her Commander to come back to her. For more. 

 


End file.
